Could There Be Another?
by treasureplanet-gurl
Summary: Tragedy strikes on Will and Elizabeth's wedding day and the blacksmith is left grieving. But when a ship coming from England is shpirwrecked, Will questions the existance of another Elizabeth. Beginning is WillLiz, later is WillOC. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I do not own any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters I refer to in this story. If I did, I can assure you that Elizabeth would have been killed off way early in the beginning of the movie. I do own Charlotte, Sarah, and anyone else whom you don't recognize.

Author's Note- Yes, just to clear something up, I haven't died or anything…or at least, I don't think I have. I'm still around but have had very little time to write. Anyway, I was reading over my old Pirates of the Caribbean story and was appalled. I thought it was beyond saving and decided to write a new fiction. Hopefully, I can avoid the major Mary Sue problems. I am open to suggestions to correct the most common mistake made by writers who insert their own characters into the story.

The Story Begins,

A soft mist settled over London England. The morning sun shone though the light layer of clouds. It was sure to be a typical cool, crisp day.

A gorgeous melody drifted through the air of one of the city's most affluent areas. If one listened, they would be able to trace the song back to its origin; a huge mansion at the end of the street.

It was through an open window that the notes wafted, enticing all who heard to look up and admire the young woman's voice.

Charlotte Andrews finished her song at the exact moment she finished her hundredth stroke through her long, curly, chocolate brown hair. She gazed with satisfaction at the reflection the large, ornate mirror offered.

The twenty-year-old closed her liquid brown eyes and shivered. The large bedroom was quite cold in the morning.

"Sarah," she called in her smooth, pleasant voice. It was time to get ready for the day's activities.

"Abigail."

The last word was said with an edge of impatience.

Charlotte listened for her two lady's maids. The sound of shoes clicking on the hallway's floor soon came into hearing range.

The oak wood doors opened and two women the same age as Charlotte walked in: Sarah and Abigail.

Neither of the two maids came even close to Ms. Andrews' beauty. Abigail, or Abby, was a tall, Irish girl. Her red hair was swept back into a loose but effective ponytail and her green eyes were typical of her culture. A light sprinkling of freckles gave the maid a determined and somewhat brawny look.

Sarah was average in height with dark blonde hair that hung loose to her upper back. Her blue eyes held the longing and determination for something else. The British woman knew her job and worked quickly to complete it.

Charlotte looked on as the servants worked to warm her room up by placing large pans filled with coal in the corners of the enclosure. She was eager to get dressed and see her father.

Abigail and Sarah approached their mistress, clothing articles in hand. This was something they did every morning as a part of their chores. They knew what needed to be done and they knew they needed to make their higher up look perfect.

Charlotte allowed her trusted helpers to remove her cream white nightgown and replace it with the customary white undergarments. She grimaced as Abigail came towards her with the stiff corset she wore every day.

Ms. Andrews had come to the decision long ago that whoever had invented the stomach-squeezing item must have had a grudge against women in general. She had to admit, though, it did do wonders on showing off her figure.

Sarah stood ready behind the young woman to tighten the corset's strings. She pitied her more affluent peer for having to wear it day after day.

Several short gasps later, the pain of having the strings tightened was over. A little bit of breathing regulation was needed, but Charlotte was used to that.

Abigail handed Sarah the low cut, dark green dress that their mistress was to wear. It was simple to put on and the task was done in minutes.

Charlotte stepped back to admire herself in the mirror. She had a tendency to be vain at times and was now certain she was the most beautiful woman in all of England. A smile spread across her face at this thought.

The maids had other jobs to do and quickly gathered up the clothes and sheets from the bed. They left without a word, leaving Ms. Andrews to herself.

Charlotte picked up a fan and strode out of her bedroom for her morning walk.

Sarah shifted the mountainous pile of sheets and clothes in her arms. The hardest part of her morning was over and for that she was glad.

After finishing with her mistress's rituals, Abby and Sarah had gone their separate ways to finish their chores.

Like most employees in the Andrews mansion, the twenty-year-old maid did not use her last name. She knew it was Fox, but never mentioned it when asked.

She'd been born into poverty with a father who walked out on the family when she was two years old and a mother who had worked hard to provide for her and her younger sister. They had done all right for a few years. Then, a mysterious fever swept through their area, killing mercilessly and leaving few survivors. Her mother had been one of those victims.

A tear came to the young adult's eyes as the memory of holding her younger sister by two years, sobs racking their bodies as they gazed at their mother's lifeless figure. It had been a short time after that that the older sister had landed a job in the large household, working to support herself and her sibling. Recently, though, her sister was nowhere to be found.

Sarah pushed the thoughts out of her head as she reached the laundry room.

The air inside the small cubical was hot and sticky. Water lay in standing puddles on the floor. About ten women hunched over the large buckets of water, picking clothes and other fabric from a pile that bared a resemblance to a mountain.

Sarah dropped her articles onto the heap of soiled laundry. One of the plump washerwomen gave her a weary look.

The maid turned and left, knowing very well that there was no time to talk.

Her next destination was the kitchen to help prepare the family's breakfast.

A wave of heat and exotic, delicious smells assaulted the young adult as she stepped into the well-stocked kitchen.

Everyone knew their job and was hurrying to complete the meal by nine o'clock sharp, the family's breakfast time. Sometimes, the whole crew cut it close to getting done on time but they always managed.

Sarah scanned the room and smiled when she saw Abby bent over her cutting board. The kitchen was the one place where, if work was being done, two people could talk.

The Irish woman looked up and exchanged her friend's smile. She grabbed a spare knife and tossed it to her side, indicating that she would like assistance with the cutting.

Sarah picked up the sharp object and began to massacre an apple.

"Did you hear the news?" Abigail asked, leaning close to the other maid to avoid being heard by the other scullery girls.

"What?"

"Mr. Andrews is opening up a trade route in the Caribbean. He's transporting the whole family there next week."

Their employer, Mr. Andrews, was in the trading business and had made a very successful living out of it. He was always opening new routes, but never one so important as to the Caribbean.

Sarah frowned.

"What does that have to do with us."

"How will Miss Charlotte get on in the morning without help?" Abby figured she'd let her companion fill in the blanks.

Sarah said nothing. She knew that meant that they probably would get dragged along. Not that she was complaining, it would probably be an adventure of sorts.

"Bloody Hell!" the British maid cried, cutting her finger on the knife. Abigail snickered, her emerald eyes reflecting her amusement.

Charlotte gracefully lowered herself into the cushioned dining room chair that had just been pulled out for her.

She had just returned from her long stroll and was quite ravenous.

The double doors towards the front of the elegant room opened and a slightly portly man strolled through. His plum colored coat and stylish powdered wig identified him as the master of the household.

Mr. Andrews was not the pompous, stuck up snob that generally came with such wealth. He cared about his business but was aware of others around him and their ideas (though he did not always approve of them).

"Good morning father," Charlotte greeted pleasantly, tipping her chin in a slightly arrogant manner.

"Charlotte, you grow more beautiful by the day. Any man would be honored to have you as his bride."

Ms. Andrews blushed at her father's typical joke. She feared that it would soon be a joke no longer.

The master of the house sat down across from his daughter and the servants began to bring the food to the table.

"How goes the new trade route father?" Charlotte asked, dabbing her lips gently with a cotton napkin. She kept herself aware of what her parent accomplished in his business.

"Ah yes, I was meaning to discuss that with you. All has gone well. In fact, we shall be moving soon."

Charlotte glanced up.

"Moving? Where?"

Her father's smile broadened.

"To the Caribbean."

William Turner smiled lovingly at his soon to be bride.

Elizabeth Swann looked simply gorgeous in her white and silver wedding gown. Her eyes shone with happiness. She was about to marry her true love.

The young blacksmith took the Governor's daughter's hand in his own when the chapel doors opened.

The wedding had begun.

The engaged couple strode down the aisle, hand in hand. Focusing only on their destination, not those around them.

"Elizabeth Swann."

Elizabeth glanced up, realizing that she hadn't even heard the first part of the wedding vows. Her attention had been on the dashing young man whom she was about to be wed to.

"Do you take William Turner as your husband? To love and honor in good times and bad?" the priest continued.

"I do."

"And William Turner, do you take Elizabeth Turner to be your bride? To love and honor in good times and bad, through sickness and health?"

"I…"

Before he could finish, cannon fire sounded from outside and the church shook from impact.

Author's Note- Whew! That's the longest first chapter I've ever written. I greatly care about your (the readers') opinion, so please review. Questions, comments, concerns, criticism? I'll try to update once every two weeks, so please be patient.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer- I do not own any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters I refer to in this story. They belong to Disney. If they belonged to me, there would have been some changes in the first movie. I do own Charlotte, Sarah, Abigail, and anyone else whom you don't recognize.

Author's Note- Well, seeing advertisements for the second Pirates of the Caribbean movie inspired me to write even though I only got two reviews. If you hate it, I would like to know why so I can make changes. Happy reading.

CrimsonCrome- Thanks for reviewing. Worry no longer. Hmmm…you may be on to something there. I guess you'll just have to keep reading to find out.

TeenTitanTerraLover- Thank you for the review. Only you would notice something like that. I guess it keeps me on my toes. Sarah's sister was just a baby when her father left. I think you're the only person I know who likes cliffhangers.

On With the Story,

Will glanced up in alarm as a second blast rocked the church. He had to know what was going on and, most importantly, he had to protect his future wife.

"Elizabeth, stay here. I'll be back."

Will kissed Miss Swann once and then followed the quickly forming crowd attempting to leave the church.

The smell of gunpowder was thick in the air, indicating that the cannon ball had hit close by. The residents of Port Royal were quickly slipping into a state of panic, running around and screaming many insensible phrases.

Will pushed past person after person in an attempt to get closer to the wharf, where he was sure the cannon balls were coming from. The sulfur polluting the atmosphere stung his eyes and a fine dust was covering his wedding attire.

He scanned the water with his brandy brown eyes, searching for something, anything, out of the ordinary.

It didn't take too long to spot the problem; pirates.

A dark wood ship with torn, dirty white sails floated eerily just outside the town's main port. It was, without a doubt, the starting point of the offending cannon balls.

As Will looked closer he noticed that there were several longboats sailing away from the ship. This meant trouble of the highest kind.

Mr. Turner rushed back towards the church, eager to bring Elizabeth to a place where she would be safe.

The pews inside the room of worship were mostly upturned and a feeling of fear lingered in the air. The draperies were torn and a couple of the large windows that lined the walls were broken, leaving a carpet of glass on the marble floor.

Will noticed none of these things, however. He needed to get to the woman he loved, and fast.

Glass crunched under the young man's feet as he made his way to the front of the room; the place where he'd last seen Elizabeth.

His breath caught in his throat when he reached his desired destination. The podium was still there. The red flowers, though scattered on the floor, were still in the area. Elizabeth, though, was not.

For a moment, Will's mind went numb. What if she'd been swept out with the mob of people hurrying to leave? What if the pirates had miraculously arrived before him and carried him off? That had happened once before after all.

Or maybe she had gone to seek shelter.

Will hoped fervently that the latter of the three possibilities was the one that had actually happened.

Turning quickly on his heel, the young blacksmith ran back outside and into the chaos of the streets.

With a short glance out to the sea, he saw that the boats had reached shore. But this was of little consequence to him now. He no longer cared about fighting the pirates off, unless, of course, he was fighting to protect the future Mrs. Turner.

Will knew that he would need a weapon of some sort if he wanted to get anywhere without getting killed. The only place he could think of off the top of his head was his blacksmith shop. Maybe Elizabeth would have gone there to look for him. These thoughts were what led him through the crowd and to his place of business.

The pirates had been relentless with their plundering of the small town. Many houses were lit aflame and debris littered the cobble stone streets. Even more sickening were the few corpses of several unlucky victims that were strewed out over the ground. Mice and cats ran everywhere.

Will noticed the horrors of the attack, but his brain wouldn't process them. The only thing on his mind was getting to his shop and looking for his love.

The blacksmith shop had not been spared in the pillage. The main window was shattered and a fire could be seen smoldering inside. Will only hoped that Elizabeth hadn't been inside when the establishment had been violated.

He pushed the heavy, wooden door opened and forced his way inside the burning building. The heat was almost unbearable and his expensive formal outfit seemed like a prison. His hair clung to his face and huge droplets of sweat formed on his brow.

A falling cinder hit the back of his coat and started burning.

Will shrugged the material off and continued to the back of the shop, where he kept his swords.

The fire hadn't spread to the back yet and the weapons were still intact. Mr. Turner quickly grabbed one and then made haste to look for Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" he cried.

There was no answer.

Will was certain he hadn't seen a body in the area that was currently blazing and naturally assumed she wasn't in the building.

The cool air of the rapidly approaching night was a welcome comfort as Will stepped out of the smoldering shop.

He decided to head towards the Governor's mansion, hoping, once again, that Miss Swann had gone there.

Will's lungs were burning when he arrived outside the mansion's door, but he didn't care.

He was just about to throw the door open when something stirred next to him. Out of instinct, he dropped. A blade smashed into the door where his head had been. Will rolled quickly and jumped up, sword in hand.

The blacksmith found himself face to face with a scruffy, dirty pirate. The ruffian's lips turned up into a wicked smile, revealing a pair of yellow, rotten teeth.

Will didn't stop to think and crossed blades with the man. The pirate easily parried and stuck back. The blow made Will's arms ache, but he held his own.

He was about to defeat the intruder when a second man entered the fight. This one had a scraggly blond beard and piercing gray eyes. He was more muscular than the first pirate and was wearing a slightly tattered officer's uniform, probably stolen. Will decided that the new nemesis must have a higher rank on the ship.

The sound of metal hitting metal rang out as the blacksmith fought the two lawbreakers. He was an exceptional sword fighter, but the earlier run was taking its toll on him and he felt his endurance wear down. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

He thought he wasn't going to make it and began to apologize to his wife to be in his head.

Clang!

The sound brought Will fully into the fight.

A figure stood in front of him. Judging by the figure, dirty hair, and soot covered white dress identified the person as female. She knew what she was doing and slowly began to push the pirates backwards.

Will looked at the woman's face.

"Elizabeth!" he cried, hardly believing it.

Elizabeth smiled and ran the first pirate through with her cutlass.

"Will!"

With renewed energy, Will flipped his sword in his hand and went back to swashbuckling with the remaining man.

Between the two of them, the ruffian was slowly starting to lose the vigor he had fought with earlier. In a desperate move, he lunged out with a sword. A clumsy move, but effective.

Elizabeth felt a searing pain in her stomach region and slowly felt herself falling.

Will watched everything in slow motion as his one true love was impaled with the pirate's blade. His muscles suddenly turned to stone as Elizabeth fell, unable to do anything.

That amazement and disbelief suddenly turned to anger.

Will struck out with his blade and stabbed the pirate in the chest, killing him instantly.

Everything around the blacksmith seemed to vanish as he rushed over to where Elizabeth lay.

A small pool of blood was beginning to form around the young woman's body. Her skin was pale and her usually warm hazel eyes were closed. Her breath was ragged and labored.

Will knelt next to the prone figure and cradled her head in his arms. Her skin was cold and clammy to the touch.

"Elizabeth," he whispered, his voice suddenly caught in his throat.

Elizabeth stirred and slowly opened her eyes. Will smiled when he saw the comforting gaze he was familiar with. He also noticed that they were glazed over with pain.

Ms. Swann moaned and took a shuddering breath. Her eyes began to drift shut.

"Elizabeth, stay with me," Will cried, gently shaking his would be bride.

Elizabeth smiled sadly and reached up to touch her fiancé's face.

"Will, I love you."

The words were soft spoken.

She took one final breath and then went still.

A whirlwind of emotions build up in the young blacksmith. _She can't be dead. This can't happen. We were meant to be together, forever. _

Tears slid freely and unrestrained down his tan cheeks. They landed softly on Elizabeth's pallid face.

"Elizabeth," Will said, giving the motionless body a shake.

The woman didn't move.

"Elizabeth."

Louder this time.

Ms. Swann remained still.

"Elizabeth!"

Will screamed these last words. Sorrow filled his voice with the realization that Elizabeth Swann, his fiancée, was dead.

xxxxx

Things at the Andrews' manor were, to say the least, chaotic.

A week had passed since the news of moving to the Caribbean had been announced, but it had felt more like a month, or so Sarah thought.

She was returning from Charlotte's wardrobe for at least the fifteenth time that day, arms laden with expensive clothing. She knew where all this needed to go and moved swiftly to get her load where it needed to be.

Charlotte's room had been turned upside down. Large trunks lay open and ready to receive their contents. The many trinkets the young mistress owned were hurriedly being packed away. Maids and servants rushed to and fro.

It had been decided that Abigail and Sarah would be accompanying the wealthy family along with about fifteen other helpers.

Sarah glanced over the stack of material and located the trunk she was currently packing. She knelt down and placed the articles in the wooden box. Then, the maid stepped back and sighed. The trunk was full. All that needed to be done now with it was haul it downstairs.

The maid looked for someone who might be able to lend a hand. No such luck.

She closed and locked the lid. This would be difficult.

Sarah eyed the trunk. It was fairly small and had wrought iron handholds on the side. Several splinters stuck out from the wood, but other than that, the trunk was smooth.

The young woman bent down and firmly grabbed the handles. They were cold against her skin.

With a soft grunt, she lifted she container and began to walk towards the door. To her delight and surprise, the trunk wasn't nearly as heavy as she thought it would be.

A couple minutes later, Sarah was ready to take back the though about the box not being heavy. Her arms ached from the strain. The trunk's size and the way it was positioned made it awkward to walk.

She stepped off the last oak stair and began to make her way to the open front doors.

A light breeze assaulted the young woman as she stepped outside.

A luggage carriage stood in front of the mansion's walkway. Hired helpers were arranging the many boxes and containers that already lay in the small front yard.

Sarah placed her load beside the other trunks with a sigh of relief.

That was one more done.

She turned and began to make her way back.

"Sarah," someone said.

The young woman turned to identify the speaker.

"Sarah," the male called again.

Sarah turned the other way. She had never been good with directions.

Finally, her blue eyes settled on her caller.

A young man a couple years older than her strode across the yard. Blond hair tied back in a ponytail hung just past his shoulders and a pair of aqua eyes was focused on where he was going.

Sarah allowed herself a small smile. She knew the man quite well. His name was Benjamin White, the groundkeeper of the large house.

Ben made his way to the maid quickly.

"I need to talk to you."

Sarah glanced at the pile of belongings in front of the mansion.

"Alright, but be quick. There's much to be done."

Ben nodded and motioned the young woman to follow him.

It took only minutes to reach their destination, the shed out back.

Ben opened the rough wood door and stepped inside the dimly lit room. Sarah was right behind him.

Without a word, he reached between two crates and pulled out a sword, his sword.

Sarah didn't know what to say as he handed it to her.

"Why?" was all she could manage.

For the past year and a half, the groundkeeper had been teaching the maid how to use the weapon, claiming that she may need to defend herself or possibly her mistress some day. She was a tad clumsy, but had the overall idea of how to use the blade and didn't do too bad with it.

"You were chosen to travel to the Caribbean with the Andrews' family, were you not?"

"Yes, but I don't see…"

"There are things that can happen at sea. Pirates, vessels that may think you and enemy, and many others. If things go wrong, someone needs to be able to fight them, or at least try.

"The Caribbean can be a frightening place for those who don't know what they're doing. Please, just take it."

Ben smiled at his friend. She was clever about many things, but naïve about some.

Sarah nodded.

"Thank you, Ben."

Benjamin said nothing else. He patted the young woman on the shoulder and left, leaving the door open.

Sarah stared at the sword.

She was beginning to think this whole thing wouldn't be a simple as everyone was claiming it to be.

Author's Note - Please review and give me your thoughts. Reviews are very important to me, as they let me know what the reader thinks. I shall update in a week or so.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer- I do not own any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters I refer to in this story. If I did, I would be rich. I do own Charlotte, Abigail, Sarah, and anyone else whom you don't recognize.

Author's Note- Thanks to all whom reviewed (good and bad). To those who are reading along, thanks, but please drop me a note to let me know how I'm doing. I'm not going to be around next week and thought I'd give those who are reading the next chapter.

TeenTitanTerraLover- Thank you for reviewing. blushes I didn't realize I had so many mistakes. Glad you liked the parts you did.

CrimsonCrome- Well, I'm sorry you feel that way. Just kidding! I'm still considering putting Ben in later. For now, he's a one-show guy. I'm open to your thoughts. As for the whole Elizabeth thing, I thank you for not flaming me to death. Thanks for the review.

brunette-barbie14- Thank you for dropping a note. Here's your faster update. Yes, I'm glad I killed her off too, lol. You're right, I haven't seen too many WillOC stories out there and I think it's a bit of a shame. Oh well, more Orlando for people like us.

ugly duckling- Thank you for taking the time to review. Thank you also for the compliment on my description. Yes, I agree, it is pretty random right now; but then again, we're still in the beginning stages.

williz- I must respect you for leaving a review even though you clearly didn't like what happened. However, a little more than "no" would have been a tad more helpful.

Araminta Ditch- Like the reviewer above, I thank you for reviewing for the same reason.

latebloomer- Thanks for reviewing even though you as well didn't like the chapter. Just out of idle curiosity, are you and the previous two reviewers together on this or the same person under different names? Even if I am incorrect, I found the "no", "double no", and "triple no" all consecutively in a row faintly amusing.

jazz.angel.aure.equalsfoamcore- Thank you for reviewing. I'm glad you find this interesting. Here's your update.

On With the Story,

Abigail sleepily opened one eye as the carriage hit a bump in the road. Another jolt soon had her sitting straight and, though blinking the traces of rest from her eyes, awake.

_How long have we been travelling?_ She wondered idly, pulling back one of the red, velvet curtains that covered the wagon's windows.

Outside, rows of houses and shops lined the cobblestone streets. People milled about, going about their own business. The small town looked happy enough, but black, ominous rain clouds ruined the otherwise serene atmosphere.

_Looks like rain_. Abby thought, her brain finally coming fully out of its sleep mode.

She glanced around the gloomy interior of the carriage.

Beside the Irish woman sat Sarah, who was currently dozing against the window. Across from her was where one of Charlotte's other personal maids had taken up temporary residence. The space that wasn't taken by the three servants was used for some of the baggage that wouldn't fit on the back of the travelling wagon.

Even though it was only half past eight in the morning, it had been a busy day for all whom resided and worked in the Andrews' manor.

Everyone had needed to be up before the crack of dawn. Last minute items were packed, tearful good-byes were said, and everything was checked and double-checked to be sure no mistakes were made. By five o'clock, the family and employees were well on their way.

Abigail shifted uncomfortably and accidentally bumped her British friend.

Sarah opened one eye and regarded Abby drearily.

"Where…?" she began to ask.

The Irish maid shrugged.

"Don't know. Some small town. We've been journeying for a little over three hours so I'd say we're almost there."

Sarah said nothing and leaned back against the hard, wooden seat she was sitting on.

When they had first started out, she had thought this to be somewhat invigorating and fun, an adventure. But after three hours of being bumped and jostled around, she was beginning to think otherwise.

The British woman glanced down at her small, brown, leather bag. It had very few things in it and was currently lost among all the other trunks taking up the carriage's inside space.

For some odd reason, she felt mournful. It was true that she had always wanted something more than what she already had, but the realization of leaving everything familiar to her suddenly put a damper on things. Even more sorrowful was the fact that somewhere in her heart, she knew she would never see her sister again.

Something bumping against her leg made Sarah start, bringing her out of her thoughts. After a few seconds of thinking, she remembered the sword.

In order to keep the blade concealed, she had attached to her waist, under her skirt. The scabbard continuously rubbing against her leg was uncomfortable and she knew she probably had a fantastic bruise forming, but it gave her a sense of security.

Abigail was nearly thrown out of her seat as the wagon's wheels went over a ridge in the road.

This was turning out to be a long trip.

xxxxx

Charlotte sat straight and tall in her cushioned seat.

With the idea of pleasing her parents, she had endured the ride in silence. However, the effects of the lengthy journey were beginning to wear on her. Her bum was getting quite sore from bumping up and down. The air inside the closed space was stifling hot and difficult to breathe and her layers of undergarments and yellow silk dress did nothing to keep her cool.

She so longed to open the window, just to get a bit of fresh air. She was certain her mother and father, who were sitting across from her, wouldn't mind.

With as much grace and elegance as someone who had been sitting in a carriage for three hours could manage, Charlotte leaned to one side and slid the pane of glass open.

The cool air was a refreshing treat for the rich, young woman. She closed her eyes and allowed the breeze to tickle her face and skin.

xxxxx

A good two hours later, the carriages holding the Andrews family, their belongings, and chosen employees stopped abruptly.

Being closest to the door and eager to get out, Sarah stepped out first.

A quick scan of the surrounding area told her where they were. Open water, wooden docks, cobblestone streets, crates of cargo, and the occasional drunken sailor identified the place as London's main wharf.

Sarah brushed some of the wrinkles from her dusty red skirt and took a step forward.

"Stinks a bit," Abigail commented, stepping up beside her friend.

Sarah nodded thoughtfully. Her Irish companion was correct; it did smell very unpleasant. There wasn't much that could be said in response to the observation.

From the second carriage stepped Charlotte.

She looked much like anyone else who had traveled a long distance without moving. Her dress had creases and wrinkles and her naturally curly hair was becoming slightly frizzled from the humidity in the carriage.

The twenty-year-old wrinkled her nose and pulled out a white handkerchief lined with lace. Pressing the cloth to her nose, she proceeded to walk forward, in front of her parents.

xxxxx

Abigail smiled as the chilly, salty, sea breeze swept her hair back.

She loved being on the water. As a young child, she had been captured from her home country by pirates and forced to work on the ship. She'd escaped after several months and had managed to catch a ride with numerous traders and merchants to get back. Though she had no idea how to sail the large boat, being at sea reminded her of her family and everything she'd had as a child.

The _Interloper_ had cast off a half and hour ago. It had been a hectic thirty minutes with trying to get everyone on board and loading the many trunks and bags into the cargo hold. The crew had rushed around to tend to their passengers and check to see if they had enough supplies. A complaint from Mrs. Andrews about the conditions in which the family would be living in for the next couple of weeks was also thrown in for good measure.

Abby was relieved that, despite the chaos, England was now shrinking on the horizon. They were finally under way and headed for their new home.

Yet, for some reason, the black clouds slowly covering the sky screamed trouble.

xxxxx

Will had gone through the last week in a daze.

A couple days after his beloved had died, a funeral had been held. It was the beautiful ceremony that the young woman had deserved. Many mourners had come to pay their respects to his loved one's father and him. He had left early, unable to take the sympathetic apologies and the grief inside. Every day since, the blacksmith had taken time out of his busy schedule to visit his fiancée's grave.

Repairs to the blacksmith shop had also been made in the seven-day time period.

Even now, he was absently banging one of his prized swords into shape, only half aware of the malleable metal.

A knock on the door brought Will temporarily out of his stupor.

He stopped his work and left to answer the door. It was probably another customer, wanting to burden him with another order for some metal object.

The rough wooden door opened before the young man even touched the handle and someone flounced in.

Dark brown dreadlocks, chocolate brown eyes, tan skin, and a slightly drunken swagger made it all too clear who the visitor was; Jack Sparrow.

Sparrow didn't even seem notice the black smith at first. He walked around the shop, eyeing interesting objects and seeing what had changed since he had wandered in before.

His eyes widened in interest as he spotted five rum bottles on the shop's table.

Will had been drinking heavier than he usually did since the tragedy that had struck a week previous. He knew some of the bottles were empty and a few were half full.

Jack instantly reached for one of the ones that still contained some liquid and tipped it up, drinking the bottle's contents.

"Jack Sparrow," Will said, his voice monotonous as an effect of his depression.

"It's Captain. Captain Jack Sparrow."

The pirate Captain looked around.

"Where's Elizabeth?"

Will felt a fresh stab of pain in his heart at the mention of his true love.

"Why are you here, Jack?"

If Sparrow noticed the young blacksmith's avoidance of his question, he chose not to say anything.

"This."

With those words, Jack pulled a yellowed, torn piece of cloth from his pocket and tossed it on the table.

Author's Note- umm…ok, I hope that didn't bore you to death. I'd really like to know your thoughts, questions, and/or suggestions. See you in a week!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer- I do not own any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters I refer to in this story. I do own Charlotte, Sarah, Abigail, and anyone else whom you don't recognize.

Author's Note- Ok, so, I saw Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest for the second time and got inspired. I apologize for the delay in updates. Thanks to those who read and review.

Incubus2704- I'm glad you're not bored. I'll have to check out your stories. Thanks for reviewing.

CrimsonCrome- Thank you for the review. Well, Jack's a pirate (as I'm sure you've already gathered). He'll fall in love with anything that has two legs and a feminine figure. LOL. No, you weren't too harsh on the Elizabeth thing. I apologize if I was; I just really don't like her. I'm not sure there'll be too much POTC 2 stuff. The only reason being that I came up with the plot before I saw the movie, so I'm not sure what would fit in and what wouldn't.

On With the Story,

Will stared at the square of fabric. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but guessed it probably had to do with treasure. Jack was always looking for treasure.

"What is it?" the blacksmith asked, letting his curiosity take control.

Jack grinned and opened the cloth.

Drawn in dark blue ink and blotted in some places was a map.

"A map." Will stated.

Sparrow looked up.

"Not quite. A third of a map."

Will bent over the table to get a better look at the burnt material.

Sure enough, the map was cut off at the side and on the bottom with rough, torn edges replacing the two missing pieces.

"Where are the other two thirds?"

"Somewhere between here and there."

At these words, Jack pointed to his left. The blacksmith assumed he was partly drunk and decided not to say anything.

"What does it lead to?"

"Treasure. You know, shiny stuff you usually dig out of the ground."

Will nodded.

"And how do you suppose you find this treasure?"

Sparrow frowned. Was there a sarcastic edge behind his acquaintance's words?

"Not me. We. We are going to set off in the Black Pearl and find the other two pieces of the charter. Then, we'll dig up the treasure and split it between us sixty forty."

"We," Will repeated.

"You really need to start listening, mate. Yes, we. You, me, and Elizabeth. Where is she anyway? I was under the distinct impression that you two were going to be joined in holy matrimony."

"She's," Will took a painful swallow, a fresh pain stabbing his heart. "Gone."

"I knew she'd be the first to leave."

"No, Jack. Gone, dead, deceased, never to return!"

Sparrow just stood there shocked at the sudden outburst. Was it possible that Will was lying? No, he loved Elizabeth too much for that.

"That would explain why she's not here," the captain said quietly.

"I can't go. No now."

"Yes you can. You want to get revenge on her death."

Will stared at Captain Sparrow. How could the man be so selfish?

"Would she want you to sit around mourning? That isn't the Lizzy I knew."

The blacksmith thought about it for a couple moments. Elizabeth always had loved adventure and accomplishing feats that had seemed impossible to others.

"Besides, staying here will drive you insane. I've seen it happen to many a good man," Sparrow continued.

"Alright, I'll go with you."

xxxxx

Jack Sparrow led the way to the docks; keeping carefully to the shadows and dodging anyone whom came too close.

"Now, where did it go," he murmured to himself, scanning the waterline with his chocolate brown eyes.

In a matter of minutes, Jack found what he was looking for; a small longboat.

Will was a little under whelmed.

The last time Captain Sparrow had sailed in to Port Royal, he'd come elaborately on a sinking ship that happened to reach the dock just before it went completely under. A longboat just didn't seem extreme enough for the infamous pirate.

The young man looked out to the horizon, looking for the Black Pearl, Sparrow's famous ship. He felt a few tears spring to his eyes when he realized that this was the same thing he'd done just before Elizabeth had stepped out of his life.

A gust of wind brought his gaze to one side, and he saw the ship.

Anchored near the edge of the bay, was the large, fast frigate. Its well-known black sails were secured, hiding them from plain view. Simple, but effective.

Will glanced down at Jack.

The pirate was stepping into the small boat.

"This seems a bit…ordinary, Jack."

"Just laying low."

The blacksmith climbed into the boat and sat across from Jack.

"Oh, one more thing. I'm going to have to ask you to put this on."

Sparrow reached under the seat and pulled out a dark green lady's cloak.

"Security purposes," the pirate added, noticing William's stare.

Will took the garment and looked briefly to the sky.

What had he gotten himself into?

xxxxx

Charlotte tied her sun hat's pale blue ribbon under her chin.

They'd been at sea for nearly two weeks and she had fast learned that staying in the sun without a hat turned the skin a tan color; something that was frowned upon at her social level.

A breeze full of brine and sprays of water greeted the young woman as she stepped out of her cabin and onto the deck.

Several of the crewmembers smiled at her from the rigging. Something in their grins told her that they were thinking about more than just being friendly.

The wooden planks that made up the floor of the deck were clean, the occasional splash from the ocean making small puddles on the boards.

Charlotte's stomach squeezed itself into a tight knot as she looked out to the never-ending body of water. The waves tossed and turned, making the large boat bounce up and down. White foam topped the waves as they crashed against the wooden hull.

Miss Andrews pulled her gaze away from the ocean and began fanning herself vigorously with her small hand fan.

She had also discovered in the two weeks time that she became seasick if she looked at or thought about the churning waves for too long.

The wind began to pick up, blowing her loose hair around her face.

Charlotte decided that she had been out too long and turned to leave, being careful not to look at the water as she went.

xxxxx

Sarah watched her mistress leave and shook her head. Charlotte had many assets and strengths, but it was obvious that she had never worked or done anything strenuous in her life.

She turned her attention back to the sea.

Like everyone else in the family's entourage, the maid had been violently seasick during the first week of the journey. Now, however, the waves and motion didn't bother her as much.

She closed her eyes and allowed the breeze to caress her face. The salt from the water stung her sunburn, but she ignored it.

"Enjoying it, then?" a voice asked from behind her.

Sarah turned.

"Abby, don't sneak up on me like that," she scolded lightly.

The Irish woman laughed and soon had her friend giggling too.

"Alright, I'm sorry." She looked to the clouds. "Those clouds don't look too pleasant."

Sarah followed her companion's gaze.

A black, ominous cloud seemed to have been following them ever since they'd left port.

_That's ridiculous, clouds don't posses the ability to follow something. Still…_

The British woman looked upwards again.

Was it just her, or were the clouds closer?

The once gentle breeze was turning into a violent wind, beating its fury against anything that got in its path.

"Maybe we should go inside," Abigail shouted over the roar of the coming gale.

"Aye."

Abby shook her head. Her friend had been picking up sailor talk and used it when it was just the two of them.

On the way back to their cabin, Abigail looked at the dark blue water.

The waves turned angrily, creating small whirlpools and rocking the ship with a passion.

_This can't be good_ she thought as she closed their room's door behind her.

Author's Note- I apologize if Will and Jack were a bit out of character. I hope you enjoyed that. I'm always open to suggestions and questions. Your opinion is also strongly appreciated, good or bad. I'll update in week or so.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer- I do not own any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters I refer to in this story. If I did, the sequel would have been a bit different. I do own Abigail, Charlotte, Sarah, and anyone else whom you don't recognize.

Author's Note- My apologies for not getting this up sooner. I had a really hard time getting inspired…and if it weren't for a really weird dream, this probably wouldn't be up. This chapter is dedicated to CrimsonCrome for constantly e-mailing me and keeping me on track with this. My thanks go out to those who read and review. To the other nine hundred of you that are just reading, it would be nice to know how I'm doing.

Incubus2704- Thank you for reviewing. Yeah, I was kind of afraid I'd strayed out of character with them. I'm glad you like my description.

Smithy- Thank you for the review. I guess it is almost a widowed Will story.

brunette-barbie14- Thank you also for the review. Yep, I'm back. Don't worry, you're not slow. I deliberately tried to make it difficult to see who the leading lady was. This chapter should make it clear.

CrimsonCrome- Thanks for reviewing. Hehehe, a Jack test…cool. I agree, more description on Jack's movements would be nice. Thanks for the suggestion.

On With the Story,

Sarah shuddered as something hit the cabin door.

The sea pounded furiously against the ship, tossing the boat to and fro on the waves. The wind howled viscously overhead.

The British maid didn't like the idea of their small boat being thrown around helplessly. It seemed as if the lives of all on board were hanging by a thread, at the mercy of the ocean's wrath, and liable to end at any minute.

She jumped as something crashed outside.

Water slowly began to leak under the door, making the room's occupants jump back to avoid getting wet.

Sarah took an extra step and collided with Abigail, eliciting a small yelp of surprise from the other woman. Everyone was on edge, easily surprised and frightened by the tiniest thing.

Another onslaught of salty liquid outside piqued the British woman's curiosity. _What's going on out there?_ She asked herself. It was obvious, that it was storming. But what did the waves look like? What were the crewmen doing about the weather? There were so many questions she wanted answered.

Abby saw the curiosity in her friend's eyes and inwardly groaned. She'd know the other servant long enough to know that she wouldn't be satisfied until she got the answer to her unspoken questions.

Sarah inched towards the door, apprehension filling her mind. If she opened the wooden board and looked outside, anything could happen. Yet, she was dying to know what a sea storm looked like. Many people had said that her curiosity would be the end of her. Was that statement about to be proven?

Her hand froze on the wrought iron latch. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all.

Abigail let out a silent sigh of relief at her companion's hesitation. Things had gone wrong many times before thanks to the British woman's curiosity and, sometimes, lack of common sense.

Sarah took her hand from the door handle and stepped back. What little common sense she had had taken over.

The maid smiled at the Irish woman and shook her head at her own stupidity. Abby was about to laugh when the door began to rattle.

Being only helpers of the Andrews family, the two women had gotten one of the older, more shoddily put together cabins. They'd noticed that the door's hinges were a bit weak and loose earlier, but had thought nothing of it. However, the problem was definitely on their minds now.

"What should we…" Sarah began to ask. Her words were cut off as a particularly strong gust of wind took the door off one of its hinges.

With their only protection from the elements hanging by a single screw, Abigail and Sarah got a full view of what was going on.

The sails of the _Interloper_ were torn, having not been secured before the weather hit. At least two inches of standing water was visible on the deck. The waves were huge, slopping over the side of the boat. Black clouds blocked the once bright sky completely, casting darkness over the area. The ship rocked dangerously.

"Get outside!" Abby cried, her voice barely audible over the roaring sound of the wind.

Sarah gave her a questioning look.

"Why?"

"Things don't look too good out there. If the ship goes down, it's best to be outside where we can easily grab a piece of debris and keep above water."

It was sound advice. Abigail was the problem solver of the two and usually came up with solutions to tough problems. She'd been wrong very few times in the past.

The Irish maid led the way, pushing past the ruined door and outside. Sarah followed, instinctively throwing one arm up to protect her face from the heavily falling water droplets.

The few crewmembers on deck and in the rigging didn't seem to notice the two women. They had other things to worry about.

Abigail gripped her skirt with one hand to keep it from blowing around her legs. The attempt was futile and the cold wind ripped through the green material. Her fiery hair was soon soaked and whipping about her face, its tie long gone.

"Ah, bloody hell!"

The sound of her fellow maid's often used phrase made Abby turn her head. She was about to ask what the problem was, but her voice caught in her throat as she laid eyes on what caused her friend's alarm.

A large wall of water had risen up on the right side of the ship. The combination of wind and the ocean's violent waves made the dark wall bigger and bigger.

Sarah felt her eyes widen. There was no way the ship would survive this.

The gigantic wave began to bend toward the sailing vessel, its crest foaming white.

Abby opened her mouth in a silent scream as the boat began to float toward the wave.

The current pulled the_ Interloper_ until it was up the side of the terrifying wall of water. The top of the wave continued to roll forward until it completely covered the ship.

Sarah was thrown off her feet with the force of hundreds of gallons of sea crashing onto the deck. She felt her body hit the surface of the ocean and go under the still rolling waves. Her mouth filled with water as her sword and skirt pulled her down.

The British maid had never learned how to swim, but knew it had something to do with kicking one's feet.

She frantically moved her booted feet back and forward and fought toward the direction she hoped was up.

Panic gripped her heart as her lungs began to scream for air. She didn't even know if she was getting anywhere.

Just as she was about to give up, she broke through the raging water.

A plank from the hull of the unfortunate ship drifted past and Sarah grabbed it. She clung there, taking in shaky breaths and trying to calm herself down.

With the wind of the dying storm came the cold. Her soaked garments gave her little protection.

Exhausted from her desperate fight to survive, Sarah laid her head against the board and fell asleep.

xxxxx

Will stared at the gray sky. The color of the clouds and the somewhat strong breeze told him that a storm had recently hit. The choppy water added to his theory.

His mind, however, wasn't on the weather. It was on Elizabeth, as it had been for weeks.

He stood near the front of the ship at what had become known as his spot. He wasn't sure how long they'd been sailing, he didn't care. For the most part, the _Black Pearl's_ crew left him alone.

_They probably think I'm a madman. _Will mused idly. The blacksmith wouldn't blame them if they did. If he'd seen someone crawl over the side of the deck after Jack with a dark green lady's cloak that showed off every thing in the line of figure, he wouldn't only think them mad, but might also question their sexual preferences.

He shook his head and continued to stare at the horizon.

The atmosphere, for one reason or another, reminded him of the night when he and Elizabeth first met. True, he couldn't remember all of it; his fiancée had filled him in on what had happened. He'd been travelling from England when pirates attacked his ship. He alone survived the ordeal, having been pulled from the water by Ms. Swann's ship.

"_Father, look, there's a boy in the water!"_

Had it not been for Elizabeth, who knew where he'd be now.

His brown eyes scanned the ocean. Nothing.

_Wait a minute_.

Will looked again and froze.

There _was_ someone in the water.

xxxxx

Captain Jack Sparrow looked over his world map.

He'd been trying for the past two hours to come up with a good course. He wasn't quite sure where he wanted to go, but staying in one place just wasn't a good idea.

He raised his eyebrows as he traced his finger along a route. It looked promising.

The captain reached across the table and pulled a bottle of rum towards him. This called for a celebration. Well, anything he did called for a celebration if rum was involved.

Taking a swig of alcohol, Sparrow glanced down at the charter. His kohl lined eyes narrowed a bit when he glanced at the compass rose.

The map was upside down.

Jack Sparrow put his bottle down and flipped the map around. He wasn't too upset. This was just another day in the life of Captain Jack Sparrow.

Picking up his compass, he began to plot another course.

"There's someone in the water," Will's voice called from outside.

Jack sighed and pushed himself out of his chair.

What was the whelp up to this time?

Author's Note- Please tell me that didn't stink. Yeah, I think I may have got Jack and Will a bit OOC again. I had a very difficult time with getting the words to flow in this chapter and need some feedback. I'll be going on vacation on Saturday until next Sunday so I'll try to get another update in before then. If I can't, see you all in a couple weeks.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer- I do not own any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters I refer to in this story. I do own Sarah and anyone else whom you don't recognize.

Author's Note- My sincerest apologies for not updating sooner. I had no computer access while on vacation. School starts soon and I have some summer work to finish, so updates may not be as frequent. I'd like to thank those who continue to read and review.

Incubus2704- Thank you for the review. You really think it was well written? Thank you. Here's your update.

Smithy- Thanks for the review. I had fun and I hope your vacation is just as enjoyable. I have school so I can't take time off in September, but I bet it's a good vacation time.

CrimsonCrome- Thank you for reviewing. I'm glad you liked the description. Hmm…I guess you'll have to wait and see what happens with the two.

nemo 123489- Thanks for leaving a review. Here's your update.

Eversnow- Thank you for reviewing. Yes, I agree, this story is sad.

Eversnow- Thank you for the second review. You may be onto something about Will's heart.

TeenTitanTerraLover- Thanks for the first review. As I've said before, you seem to notice these things I miss or don't mention. I guess the sea reminds Abigail of happier times in her youth. I'm glad you liked the impression of Jack.

TeenTitanTerraLover- Thank you for the second review. Yeah, that crossed my mind when I wrote that chapter. I'm glad it made sense though.

TeenTitanTerraLover- Thank you for the third review. I was afraid that scene would be a bit choppy. I'm glad you liked the part with Will having flashbacks on Elizabeth, and you're right, it makes her death all the more enjoyable for me. OOC means Out Of Character.

The Story Continues,

Will Turner leaned forward and rested his chin on his knuckles. The hard, wooden chair he was sitting on made the position awkward, but he figured he'd get used to it.

Captain Jack Sparrow's cabin was sparsely furnished with a wooden desk, an old, oak sea chest, a chair to match the desk (which he was currently sitting on), and a small bed in the corner of the room. Rum bottles, most of which were empty, lay here and there throughout the room. The air was a bit musty and a single window allowed the early evening light to flood the small enclosure.

Will's mind, however, wasn't on the room's atmosphere. His attention was divided between two things. The first was Elizabeth, the woman that had dominated his thoughts for the past couple weeks. The second was the figure on the bed.

He thought it a bit odd how events had a tendency to repeat themselves. The person he'd spotted in the ocean had turned out to be a young woman. No one was sure exactly how she'd gotten out there, but it was thought that her ship had been sunk in the recent storm, or pillaged by pirates. Either way, it reminded the blacksmith of the day he'd first met his future fiancée.

The young man turned his attention fully to the sleeping woman.

She reminded him very vaguely of Ms. Swann, but then again, many things reminded him of his beloved. Her dark blonde hair was close to the same color and length as Elizabeth's had been. However, instead of falling around her shoulders in curls, the woman's hair hung straight and slightly uncombed. There was a sense of wanting something that seemed to linger around the unconscious figure.

_Desire._ Will decided. _Perhaps for something other than what she has._

A small, sad smile crossed his lips. He could remember feeling the same air from Elizabeth when she'd constantly ignored her social status and expectations to do what she wanted to do. Her independence was one of the things he'd found endearing about her.

That was where the semblance between two females ended.

Will shifted, realizing that his elbows were digging into his knees.

xxxxx

Warmth.

That was the first thought that registered in Sarah's mind. Wherever she was, it was warm and soft.

Her head pounded dully, not enough to cause her any real pain. Her legs were sore and felt like they'd been forced to do something strenuous.

_Where am I? Why am I here?_ The questions floated around in her head, seemingly unanswered.

As her senses slowly returned, Sarah became aware of a steady rocking. At first, she thought it was just her, but after a couple moments or laying still, she realized that the surface beneath her was gently moving from side to side.

This puzzled her for a few minutes. The ground wasn't supposed to rock…unless she was on a ship.

It was that thought that brought everything rushing back. The ship, the storm, the wave, frantically kicking, and trying to stay alive.

_Wait a minute…_ Something didn't seem right to the young woman. When she'd succumbed to exhaustion, she'd been floating in the middle of the ocean. Common sense told her that she should be cold and wet, if not dead.

Curiosity got the better of her and she forced her eyes open. Sarah blinked a couple times, trying to bring everything into focus.

She appeared to be in a bedroom of some sort. Or at least, that's what she assumed considering she was lying on a soft mattress. The mattress smelled like a somewhat unpleasant mixture of sweat, spice, and alcohol, but she couldn't really complain. A single window illuminated the room and the smell of rum could be noticed in the air.

Sarah turned her head and almost yelped in surprise.

A man sat at her bedside. He didn't appear to notice her, however. His chocolate brown eyes were glazed over, clearly revealing that his mind was elsewhere. His brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and was a little dirty from sea travel. He didn't look particularly comfortable on the room's only chair.

"Who are you?" Sarah asked, eyes widening as she asked the question. Curse her never-ending curiosity.

The man jumped slightly, coming out of his daze. He stared at the now-awake woman before answering.

"Will Turner."

Two words. Simple, but it answered Sarah's question.

"Sarah Fox. Pleased to meet you."

Sarah held out a hand awkwardly. Being a maid, she'd never had to formally introduce herself to anyone. The situation in which she found herself didn't make things any easier. She felt out of place and could feel color rushing to her cheeks.

Will only looked at the offered hand. He was faintly amused, but not enough to smile.

"Where am I?" Ms. Fox asked.

"The _Black Pearl_."

The reply had been instant, as the blacksmith had been expecting the question.

Sarah thought for a moment. The _Black Pearl_ obviously wasn't the ship she'd started out on. If she had been rescued, maybe her companions from the _Intrepid_ were on board, too.

"Was anyone else pulled from the water?"

She braced herself for an answer, but couldn't keep the hope out of her heart.

Will shook his head.

"No."

Sarah put her head down. She'd expected that, but it didn't make the realization any less painful.

Will watched as tears filled the woman's blue eyes.

_Not the same warm hazel eyes as…_ He couldn't bring himself to even think Elizabeth's name. It brought back memories that reminded him how much he'd loved her, and that she was gone.

"Miss Fox?"

Sarah didn't look up, but kept her focus on the bed's off white sheets. Her tears left trails down her cheeks.

"Sarah."

"What?"

Will hadn't expected that.

"Being called Miss Fox is too formal. I'm not used to it."

The blacksmith nodded, not saying anything.

He assumed from the tears that she'd lost someone close to her on that ship. He would've given her support it he'd been able. But he was still too stricken by his own loss to deal with someone else's.

_I suppose that's something we have in common_ Will thought miserably.

xxxxx

Jack glanced at his compass, waiting for the needle to stop wavering. He needed to see that they were still traveling in the right direction.

He raised his eyebrows as the needle ceased moving to a halt.

The heading had changed.

Captain Sparrow's compass made finding treasure a tad easier than it would usually be. However, the direction tended to change on occasion, especially if what he wanted the most at that given moment was travelling.

Right now, one of the map pieces was on the move.

Sparrow looked to the direction the needle pointed to.

Just on the horizon was a ship, just visible through the after storm fog.

A grin graced the captain's face, bringing his slightly yellowed teeth into view.

There was a good chance that approaching vessel had one of the map pieces on board. That section of the map was needed, so attacking the ship was necessary. Of course, there was also the chance that the compass was pointing to something beyond the boat.

_Well, we are pirates, after all_. Jack told himself.

"New heading. Travel that way."

Captain Sparrow pointed in the direction of the ship.

The helmsman's face lit up. He knew what was to come.

Author's Note- Once again, I had a bit of trouble here keeping everyone in character (or trying to). As I said, the next updates may not be as frequent. Let me know how I did. See you all when I see you.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer- I do not own any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters I refer to in this story. I do own Sarah and anyone else whom you don't recognize.

Author's Note- Yes, I know it's been a while. I apologize. School has been relentless and the weekends hold very little free time. I've also been trying to get a better idea of where I want to go with this. Thank you to those who reviewed or read.

Incubus2704- Thank you for reviewing. I'm glad you thought it was well written.

CrimsonCrome- Thanks for the review. Hehe, yeah, I got the e-mail. That was a long time ago. I'm glad you liked Will's grieving. As much as I dislike Elizabeth and want to give her a slow, painful death, she still deserves to be grieved over (much to my dislike).

The Story Continues,

"Hoist the colors," someone called on deck. The sound of scrambling accompanied the words as another person hurried to comply.

Will frowned as the order drifted though the cabin's wooden walls. Such a command was usually given if, and only if, a ship was about to be plundered.

He glanced at Sarah. The woman had fallen into a doze and was now snoring softly. She occasionally mumbled something or moved.

_Must be having a dream of some sort_. Will demised. _ Probably a nightmare._

The blacksmith was accustomed to such dreams himself; having been victim to them nearly every night since Elizabeth had died.

The young female had hinted to losing someone in whatever misfortune had befallen on her. That sort of thing usually took a long time to get over.

_I should know. I'm practically an expert by now. _Mr. Turner thought dryly.

Another call sounded on deck, the one that told the crewmen to be ready to board.

Something was definitely going on.

Will pushed himself up from the chair and opened the cabin door. The harsh sunlight stung his dark accustomed eyes, but he pushed forward.

xxxxx

Captain Jack Sparrow watched the ship as it drifted closer to the _Black Pearl_.

A semi evil grin graced Sparrow's features.

This was hardly the first time he'd pillaged a ship. The routine was always the same. A British flag waved from main mast, it's colors snapping gently in the breeze. It was all a trick. The other vessel would ignore the pirate ship in disguise, just as ones before it did.

_And we all know what happened to them. _ Jack thought smugly. He loved his work.

He was soon able to read the ship's name it was so close.

The _Ocean's Pride_ was coming nearer and nearer. If they just waited a few more minutes, the vessel's treasure would be theirs.

The sound of a door creaking open behind the captain made him jump. He usually got a little nervous with excitement before this sort of thing took place.

Jack turned around and came face to face with a certain Will Turner.

The young man looked the same as he had for the past few days. His brown eyes were half glazed over, his mind in another world. He was pale with bags under his eyes, no doubt unable to sleep from the nightmares that constantly plagued his mind. It was obvious that the blacksmith had eaten very little over the past few weeks.

Sparrow was beginning to worry about his young friend, just a little.

"What's going on?" Will asked. His voice held its usual dazed sound.

Jack motioned with a nod of his head towards the ship. He grinned.

Will raised his eyebrows and looked a bit confused.

Sparrow rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"We're pirates, Will. And being such, it is our duty to plunder this wonderful ship before us."

The answer seemed to satisfy the young man, as he took to staring at the _Ocean's Pride_ with a thoughtful expression.

"Why don't you join us? Take your mind off Eliza…" Jack cut himself off and felt like clapping a hand over his mouth. His eyes widened when Will looked at him, sadness brought back anew in his eyes.

The blacksmith said nothing. The sorrow and the pain he'd been feeling over the past few weeks rushed back. He'd been trying not to even think about the name of his beloved, it made him think about the good times they had and could have had.

Captain Sparrow didn't say anything else. He didn't want to upset his friend anymore than he already had. Besides, he had a more pressing matter to deal with at the moment.

The _Ocean's Pride_ was close now, very close. If he intended to do anything, he needed to give the order to do it.

"Hoist the colors! Launch the grappling hooks! Prepare to board!" Jack called loudly, his voice carrying with the crisp wind.

The orders were quickly being carried out. The British flag was hastily lowered and replaced with the Jolly Roger, typical of pirates. A large number of grappling hooks were shot at the unsuspecting vessel, their iron spikes gripping the ship's hull. The crewmen who weren't complying with the first two orders stood with swords and pistols, a couple held large planks to get from ship to ship.

Yes, everything was just as it should be.

"Permission to board," Sparrow shouted.

A resounding cry rose from the _Black Pearl's_ crew. They lived for this, being pirates and all. There was a clank as the plank were roughly secured in place and then the sound of pounding feet. Cries arose from the_ Ocean's Pride_.

Captain Jack Sparrow stood in the midst of it all, his compass in hand.

The arrow was still pointed at the ship, though occasionally it wavered.

He sighed. He'd never fully understand that bloody compass.

xxxxx

_She was on the _Intrepid_ again. _

_The sun was shining. The ocean was calm. All seemed well. _

_Someone called her name and she turned, putting a hand up to stop her hair from blowing in her face. Her dusty red colored skirt blew around her legs._

_The wind was picking up. _

_Abigail stood near the bow of the ship, her red hair also being battered around in the steadily worsening wind. She grinned and waved her friend over to her._

_The sky steadily darkened and the grin left Abby's face. The sea grew choppier, violent waves lashing against the side of the ship with all their fury. _

_It began to rain heavily. _

_She brushed her rain soaked hair from her blue eyes and stared at Abigail. _

_A large wave rolled across the deck, knocking the Irish maid over the side, a strangled cry of surprise escaping the woman._

_She ran to the side, but could only stare as her friend's fiery colored hair disappeared below the ocean's surface and out of sight. _

_A sense of emptiness erupted within her. Her best friend was gone and it was all her fault. _

_She had done nothing but sat back and watched as Abigail sank to her death. She hadn't lifted a finger to save her._

_It was completely her fault._

Sarah's eyes snapped open.

She was shaking slightly, but not from being cold. She could feel beads of sweat accumulating on her brow.

It had seemed so real, but it had been just a dream.

_Thank God._ She thought, smiling. _None of it's real. Abby's not dead and we're all safe. Nothing's happened that I should feel responsible for…_

Her grin disappeared as past events caught up with her and she remembered where she was and why she was there.

_Abigail really is gone and it _is_ all my fault._

Sarah felt tears well up in her eyes.

A loud thump from outside made her jump.

Something was going on, she could feel it.

The British woman pushed herself upright on the bed, a slight wave of dizziness that came from laying down too long coming over her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and made to stand up.

Her legs, still sore from kicking, didn't support her at first and she collapsed back onto the bed.

She reached down to gently massage the muscle of her bare leg.

_Wait a minute. Bare leg…_

Sarah looked down and blushed profusely.

When she'd first woken up, she'd been in a fairly fragile state of mind and hadn't taken the time to even think about what she was wearing. Now she noticed that she was sporting a rather large, white shirt that was typical of sailors. It dropped almost to her knees, making her legs look thin. Other than that, she wore nothing.

The maid felt her cheeks heat up some more when another thought crossed her mind.

_Someone had to have changed me_.

She desperately hoped it was the young man…what was his name? Oh yes, Will… whom she'd woken up with earlier who had performed the embarrassing task. He seemed too out of it to notice anything.

The sound of gunfire made her look towards the door.

Sarah's curiosity took hold once again and she suddenly forgot about what she was wearing.

She glanced around and spotted her sword lying idly on the room's desk.

Picking the weapon up, the woman headed towards the door. Her hand rested lightly on the wrought iron door latch. She froze.

This was exactly what happened before…before everything she knew and loved ceased to exist.

She closed her eyes tightly, not fully knowing what to do. Did she really want to relive what had happened last time she'd found herself in this position? Yet, she really wanted to know what was going on outside the cabin.

Another shot and then a shout of pain sounded.

Seemingly on impulse, the British woman opened the door.

The sight that greeted her wasn't exactly what she expected.

Another ship was pulled close to the _Black Pearl_ with a plank over the side to connect the two vessels. The smell of gunpowder and blood was strong in the air. There were men on both ships fighting, screaming, and staggering around with near fatal wounds.

This definitely wasn't a normal occurrence for an honest ship.

_Where the Hell and I, then?_ Sarah wondered. She knew from her brief conversation with Will that she was on the _Black Pearl_, but hadn't bothered to ask what kind of seafaring vessel it was exactly.

She glanced towards the main mast, where a flag should be hanging.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Pure black with white skull that was almost illuminated against the background, the pirate flag snapped angrily in the breeze.

Everything seemed to be at a standstill for the British woman. She'd heard stories, terrible stories, from Abby about pirates and how they acted. Her Irish companion had said they were cruel with only their own greed and ambitions in mind.

And now she was on one of their ships.

The maid felt like she was going to get sick. The relief she'd originally felt at being rescued was gone, replaced by a feeling of dread and fear.

Her blue eyes desperately searched out a place to hide, from the ongoing fight and the crew of the ship. She finally settled on the hold and, remembering the layout of the _Intrepid_, hurried to find a place to hide.

xxxxx

Will Turner could feel a bead of sweat roll down the side of his face.

He swung left and right, his sword clashing with those around him. He really wasn't paying attention to what was going on, just reacting to his opponents' movements. Fighting, however, did keep the young man's mind off his recent tragedies, just a little bit.

The blacksmith absently pivoted on his right foot to engage an enemy. The shock of the returned blow made his arm ache all the way up to the shoulder. This caused him to look up; no one had yet to parry with such a strong hit.

The man looked like any other ordinary pirate with his dirty hair and tattered clothing. His steel gray eyes shone with a common hatred. No, he definitely had the outward appearance of a law-breaking ruffian.

Yet, something was different, familiar even.

Will could feel something practically radiating off the scoundrel. It was a feeling of pure anger, of wanting to cause chaos and hurt. Above all, the man's presence also held a sense of secrecy, as though he held knowledge that no one else possessed.

_Why are there pirates on a ship called the _Ocean's Pride_, anyway. Maybe Jack was on to something after all. _

It was this thought that brought the blacksmith from his melancholy daze and fully into the fight.

The crew of the other ship looked rough, too rough for what the vessel's name suggested. And they were all fighting furiously.

Something wasn't completely right.

Will began to focus on his duel, making his movements more precise and thought out. Something about the scenario reminded him of that fateful night when he had lost his fiancée.

_Elizabeth._

The young man decided that he would win his current battle for nothing else than to begin revenge for his would be wife. The pain in his heart was great and slashing his blade at the pirate seemed to alleviate it, temporarily.

The ruffian reached into his pocket and pulled out a fist full of something.

As Will swung his sword in an accurate, deadly swing, the pirate threw whatever was in his fist at the young man's face.

It was dirt.

Will reflexively stepped back, blinking furiously to get the gritty substance out of his watering eyes. He could taste the earth on his tongue and feel it on his face. A fine dusting of the brown substance had found its way to his hair, making it dirtier than it had been before.

He ran a sleeve across his face to clear some of the dark stuff from his face.

The blacksmith looked hurriedly in both directions, searching for the man he had been fighting earlier.

The pirate was gone.

Another quick glance around the scene revealed that the ruffian was no where in sight. In fact, Will didn't see him on either ship.

It didn't seem likely that the man would've gone below decks on the _Ocean's Pride_, there was too much fighting going on to do that. However, there was a chance that he could've gone to the _Black Pearl_, the bloodshed wasn't as heavy on that ship.

With the thought of finding the scoundrel running through his head, Will raced across the gangplank between the two ships.

xxxxx

Sarah inched her way carefully around a barrel. She was pretty sure that everyone on board was occupied with the raid going on above decks, but there wasn't any harm in playing it safe.

Her hand touched something smooth that was seemingly embedded in the wall.

She glanced down and spotted a green bottle. Looking further on, she noticed that there seemed to be a whole store of them, all kept in shelves built into the wall.

_Probably rum._ She concluded, thinking of what Abby had told her about pirates' tendencies with drinking.

Heavy footsteps behind her made the young woman freeze. Apparently, she'd been wrong about everyone being upstairs.

She looked frantically for a place to hide. She didn't want to face any pirates right now, not after all she'd heard about them.

Sarah felt a surge of panic go through her as she realized there was no where to discretely hide. She was trapped.

Her visitor came closer and she was soon able to distinguish his features.

The man had obviously been at sea for some time as his hair and skin possessed the same grungy sort of look that Will's had. His clothing was nothing more than a bunch of rags and his eyes seemed to hold bitterness.

His cold eyes gazed down at her. His lips curled upward in a cruel sneer.

Out of a nervous impulse, Sarah's hand felt its way to the handle of her sword, which was, once again, tied safely around her waist.

Another set of footsteps coming cautiously down the hold's stairs made the pirate turn. The evil gleam left his eyes for a moment.

He pulled out his own sword; any intentions he'd previously had were gone.

Sarah whipped her blade out. It had been a long time since she'd used it. She hoped she wasn't too rusty.

As soon as the swords clashed, she instantly regretted her decision. Her opponent was strong and his blow sent pains shooting through her arm. Sarah realized that this intruder wasn't like Benjamin, he wasn't going to stop in fear of hurting her.

She focused only on defending herself, sweat beading on her forehead. This wouldn't last too much longer. Her strength was waning.

A metallic clang pierced the air.

Sarah looked up, barely hoping for a miracle.

Will and the pirate were at it, swords clashing and feet moving in some kind of rhythm. The small space that was the hold made dueling near impossible, but both participants were managing.

The blacksmith seemed to know what he was doing and quickly turned the ruffian around, effectively pinning him in a corner.

The British woman could only watch the scene in fascination. Will seemed so experienced and so sure of his actions. She definitely respected such talent.

Will flipped his opponent's blade over his head and stabbed him in the gut. A startled expression came over the man's face before dropping dead.

The young man immediately closed his eyes and inwardly cursed. The pirate may have known something important and now they'd never know. If he hadn't been defending the young woman, or focusing on getting his revenge, none of this would've happened.

Sarah moved towards the dead man.

"Who is he?" she decided to ask the obvious question.

Will shook his head.

"I believe I can answer that," another voice drawled.

The pair turned around and took in the face of none other than Captain Jack Sparrow.

Author's Note- Please review and let me know your thoughts, good and bad. I apologize if the characters were a little OOC, I haven't written them in a while. I'm trying not to make Sarah a Mary Sue. Am I succeeding? I'll see you guys when I see you. Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer- I do not own any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters I refer to in this story. If I did, I would be making money off them, not writing fan fiction. Sarah, however, is mine as well as anyone else whom you don't recognize.

Author's Note- My sincerest apologies for taking so long to update. My schoolwork has been brutal and time has been scarce. If anyone is still reading, I would appreciate a review so I know if I'm still doing all right.

TeenTitanTerraLover- Thank you for your first review. Yeah, non-action scenes really aren't my thing. I'm glad you liked the chapter. I agree, I will never sleep with my nose in the pillow ever again.

TeenTitanTerraLover- Thank you for the second review. Once again, you have caught my mistakes. Haha, I liked your reactions to possible being naked in front of Will. Personally, being an Orlando fanatic, I'd greatly enjoy it. I'm glad you think she's not a Mary Sue, I'll probably ask that several times in the fic to make sure she's ok. Yes, I did kill Elizabeth's murderer off.

CrimsonCrome- Thank you for leaving a review. I wouldn't say perfection, but I'm glad you liked the chapter and the plot. I am also relieved that you don't think Sarah is a Mary Sue.

Cici Linne- Thank you for dropping a note. I'm glad you're enjoying the story thus far and am, as I have been with the previous reviews, happy that Sarah hasn't been labeled a Mary Sue. Here's your new chapter.

The Story Continues,

Captain Sparrow swaggered over to the dead pirate and raised his eyebrows, peering into the man's face. He knew the man. Hell, he was Captain Jack Sparrow, he knew everyone. Still, it was fascinating how much a person could change in a couple decades.

Without a word, Jack bent down and began to rummage through the pirate's pockets.

Will raised an eyebrow and Sarah stared blankly.

"Jack?" the blacksmith inquired.

Sparrow held up his index finger, signaling his friend to wait. He slid his hand into one of the ruffian's inside pockets and withdrew a small assortment of documents.

"Who is he?" Will tried again. He couldn't help but feel that the person at his feet was somehow connected with the raid on Port Royal and the death of his fiancée.

"All in good time, Will. All in good time," the captain replied, standing up and shoving the documents into his pocket.

"That man is somehow related to the death of…the death of her. I need to know what's going on." The young man could hardly keep the anger and, much to his chagrin, desperation out of his voice.

Jack was silent, seemingly turning the situation over in his mind. His rogue lined eyes rested on Mr. Turner and he nodded once.

"Alright, Will. Accompany me to my cabin and I'll tell you what I know." He forced a grin and clapped his friend on the back. "It's been ages since I've been able to tell a good story, anyway."

Will's face was expressionless. There was too much going on and he needed to get to the bottom of it.

Captain Sparrow spun on his heel and began to stride up the hold's stairs. However, as if on a second thought, he turned around and headed over to the wall that held the bottles of rum. He narrowed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly making a difficult decision. Then, the pirate reached out and grabbed the nearest bottle.

"Helps move the story along," he explained, acknowledging Sarah for the first time and giving her a crooked grin.

Sarah stepped back, conscious, once again, of how little she was wearing.

xxxxx

"Captain, what are we to do about this, er, mess?" Gibbs asked, indicating towards the deck. Blood, bodies, and gunpowder residue covered the dark wooden planking.

The captain frowned and stepped back, admiring the wreck. He handed his alcohol bottle to will and put his hands up, forming a square in front of his eyes. It seemed as if he was trying to thoroughly assess the situation.

"Right, clean this up and, uh, congratulate yourselves on a victory with extra rations of rum." He grinned, obviously pleased with his decree.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow but chose not to say anything. Once he was gone, Will turned to Sparrow.

"Congratulate yourselves with extra rations of rum?" Will asked incredulously.

"Mate, in my many years of experience, the one thing I've learned time and time again is to never deny any good pirate his rum. In fact, I myself could use some." Jack reached out and snatched his bottle from Mr. Turner.

Sarah would have brought the question of whether a good pirate actually existed into play, but was still too nervous of her surroundings and the people she was with to say anything. No, at the current moment, all she really wanted to accomplish was keeping Will between her and the rest of the ship's crew.

The blacksmith frowned at the young woman who was trying desperately to hide behind him. He could understand why she wouldn't want to prominently display herself to the rest of the men, but he really didn't want to be clung to. He had his own problems.

The trio finally reached the captain's quarters and stepped inside.

Once the door was safely closed, Sparrow popped the cork on his bottle and took a long swig, savoring the taste.

"Jack," Will prompted, sitting down on the bed. He leaned forward, eager to hear what the captain had to say.

"Right." The captain looked at Sarah for a moment. "You may want to sit down, love."

Sarah sat down next to Will, relieved that she hadn't been asked to leave. She didn't particularly relish the idea of being alone amongst a group of pirates.

"That man, this'll really be shocking Will so listen carefully, was a pirate." Sparrow grinned.

Turner gave the man a bored stare. He'd figured that one out already.

"He was a particularly brutal pirate to be sure. I had the…pleasure of working with and against him on several occasions. Needless to say, I enjoyed being neither side. He was captain of his own ship, the one we just successfully plundered."

"What's the man's name?"

"Steel Eyes."

"Steel Eyes," Will repeated, hardly believing it. It seemed to be a ridiculous name for a ruffian, especially one as nasty as the man in question had been.

"Well, you wouldn't call him that unless you had a death wish, and I can assure you some did." He stopped for a moment to take another drink of rum. "We all just called him Hawk. Well, the man's last name wasn't really Hawk, but he hated his real last name so he changed it."

"What was his real last name?"

Something shadowed over in Jack's eyes, as if he were about to say something particularly unpleasant. He looked at his bottle, took another gulp, and then continued staring at the half-empty container.

"Swann."

Will's breath caught in his throat. He could hardly breathe and could feel his heart thudding against his chest. The world seemed to spin for a fleeting moment.

"What?" He finally rasped out.

"His last name was Swann." Jack closed his eyes and bent his head. He knew his friend was probably being torn apart inside.

There was a tense silence in the room as the information sunk in. Of course, it meant nothing to Sarah, but to Will, it was everything.

"His last known whereabouts, aside from the Black Pearl's hold, were Port Royal."

The blacksmith felt his eyes widen. His assumptions had been correct; the renegade had been at Port Royal the day his beloved had been killed.

Jack stood up and placed the bottle on his desk.

"Sorry, mate," he said, opening the door and stepping out of the room. As much as he wanted to stay and comfort his friend, his ship and crew needed to be checked on.

Will stood up and absently walked over to the captain's desk. He picked up the bottle and gently shook it.

It still contained some alcohol.

Had he been his normal self, the young man would have thought it strange that Sparrow hadn't finished consuming his precious rum. However, at the current moment, he didn't really care.

Sarah just sat there, staring at her folded hands. She felt a bit awkward, but could relate to the situation. She had sensed before that Will had lost someone very important in his life and now knew that they must have had the last name of Swann or had been related to someone with the name.

"Will," she said, her heart beginning to pick up speed. She knew she probably shouldn't say anything, but she was curious.

The blacksmith said nothing, but turned to face her.

The British woman hesitated for a moment.

_He looks like a puppy that's been kicked too many times._ She thought sadly.

"What happened?"

Will turned away and, for a moment, she was afraid she'd offended him. That hadn't been her intention.

She was about to tell him to forget it, when he began to speak.

"I lost someone very important to me. Someone who, in the past, meant the world to me and gave me a purpose for being alive. I used to think I would die if something happened to her. And now, my beloved and intended wife, Elizabeth Swann..." He choked on the name. "Is dead."

Sarah couldn't say anything. It was a terrible story and she suddenly felt selfish at mourning over her friends, when it seemed that he'd lost something greater. If she'd had known the young man better, she would've comforted him. If this Elizabeth Swann person had been his future wife, he probably thought about her all the time, and she knew from experience that thinking of the person only made the pain worse.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, not knowing what else to say.

However, Will didn't seem to have heard her and continued to stare at the wall. He could feel tears filling his eyes, tears that brought his inner pain with them. He inwardly cursed the young woman. In his heart, he knew she was just trying to help, but at that moment, remembering the person he'd loved so dearly only made things worse.

Sarah could sense water coming to her own eyes. The young man's inner turmoil seemed to radiate through the room, affecting everything.

_I'm such an idiot._

Author's Note- Eh, not my best chapter to date. I apologize for Jack's being out of character. He didn't want to cooperate with me. As always, I really want to know your thoughts, so feel free to click the review button and leave me a note (positive or negative). Thank you for reading.


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